


spark the electric jester drabbles

by discranola



Category: Spark the Electric Jester (Video Games)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alien Culture, Body Horror, Body Modification, Canon Compliant, Existential Angst, Eye Trauma, Fratricide, Freom Is The Trans Experience, Kidnapping, Kinda, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Multi, Red String of Fate, Robot Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-12 15:51:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21478927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discranola/pseuds/discranola
Summary: a short collection of drabbles for the videogame series spark the electric jester, mostly focused on the second game.
Relationships: Double/Fark, Flint/Float
Kudos: 15





	1. ghosts

It has been two weeks, six days, four hours and twenty-five seconds since Flint last saw Double, and just a few hours under that since he last saw Float.

He knows they’re both dead, of course, the radio static that fills his head when he tries calling them is proof of that. 

But sometimes, when he goes to reminisce at the peaks of Tsuki, or he goes too many days without going into sleep mode to charge, he swears for a millisecond he can feel a firm arm on one shoulder and a brush of hair against his other.


	2. restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fark is stuck in spark's house after the events of the first game.

“You should sleep.”

“I am not a Formie, I do not require sleep.”

Spark’s eyes soften as he looks at the robot replica in the corner, his body posture signalling he would be anywhere else but his original’s home. 

“C’mon, you know that’s a lie. I’ve seen plenty of bots sleeping in the corners of shops. Speeds up your charging process, right?”

Fark looks away. “Yes.”

Silence wafts through the poorly decorated room as the Formie finishes the last adjustments on his jester hat before putting it aside for the night. 

Fark is intent on staring out the window, the lights of Flower Mountain City blooming in the distance even at the late hour, before he feels a gloved hand on his arm and flinches. 

“Fark.”

He feels squeezed into the corner, the only option he has is to continue staring out the window like a coward or look his double in the eyes. 

He chooses the latter.

Fark nearly instantly regrets it, the pure emotion in Spark’s eyes wanting him to storm out the door and never turn back, but before he can move he opens his mouth again.

“Listen, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot but… I know you don’t have anywhere to stay right now, yeah? You can stay here for as long as you need to.”

Fark feels his uncaring mask slip a little, like on the rainy day with Metal Crow, and he wishes he could smile to show Spark he isn’t ignoring him. 

“....You care too much, Spark.”


	3. cruel mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> freom's meeting with unit-0 in the lunar base.

There are many different emotions running through Freom’s core as he stares down at the decapitated head of Unit-0. 

Anger, disgust, satisfaction, power.

Pity.

A worthless, weak robot that failed its job, who _he_ replaced.

His brother.

His voicebox is already failing, the last of his energy reserved to begging for mercy. He doesn’t even recognize his own kin, although he wouldn’t, the 'good doctor' kept Unit-0 in the dark about Megaraphs development after scrapping him for being too soft. 

That is where Freom, Unit-1, filled his role, and as he crushes his own brother’s metallic skull in his fist without hesitation, he knows he has succeeded in the cruel job Doctor Armstrong gave him.


	4. a well earned break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flint and float have differing opinions to double.

If you spent too long in the shadier parts of Flower Mountain, or checked out-of-the-way online forums, you were sure to hear rumours of a terrifying rogue robot. 

Its eyes were said to burn red like fire, or blood, depending on the Formie’s interpretation. It was said any who saw it had to start counting their days, as it would come after them too, soon enough. 

Authorities were naturally hush-hush about it, not wanting to admit how many good men and robots alike they had lost to it, and that scared the Formies even more, knowing it was still out there, ready to strike.

Flint, from personal experience, knew at least a few of those things were true. Terrifying? If you caught him on a bad day. Killing whatever creature dared see his face? Well, he’d known him for years now, and _he_ was still alive. 

He had to admit, however, that his skill in combat had not been exaggerated at all, as evidenced by all the times they sparred and Flint ended up down in seconds. He was an excellent teacher though, and he learnt new techniques from him every day. He was not to be underestimated.

“I say I’m not doing it.”

“And _I_ say we are! When was the last time you sat down and relaxed, Double?”

Flint chuckled. Well, except when dealing with Float.

Double crossed his arms. “I don’t need to relax. Every second I waste my time I could be spending training or searching for new clients.”

Float scoffed back. “You are _so_ stuck up sometimes! I can guarantee, right now, that you are not going to lose _any_ business by taking a days break!” She peered down at Double, their faces nearly touching although he refused to move. “When was the last time you had the cracks on your face fixed? Just slapping a smear of discount paint over them isn’t going to get rid of them forever, you know. We should find someone who can fix you up!”

“Nonsense. That would leave me to open to attack, leaving myself vulnerable like that. A superficial fixing isn’t worth what it could potentially cost us.”

Flint walked over to the two, their heads instantly turning to face him, waiting for his judgement on the matter. Flint tensed himself for the glare he was about to receive. 

“In my honest opinion, master,” oh, there it was, “I think some rest would be welcome. I’ve known you for a long time, and I cannot recall a time you have fully let yourself relax. You should know that Float and I would never let someone attack you.”

If possible, Double’s expression somehow got _more_ annoyed, and he rolled his eye. “There is only two of you and plenty of people who want to kill me. They’re bound to find an opening somewhere.” 

Float groaned loudly and dramatically rolled back her head. “We could hire a few low-grade bots, and I’m sure whoever we could hire wouldn’t mind if you brought along your swords.”

“But-”

Flint gently placed his arm on Double’s. “Master, I swear on my _life_, we will protect you from anyone that wishes to harm you. You deserve a break after fighting so hard.” 

Bingo. Flint knew Double well enough to know he had developed a soft spot for him over the years, enough to influence his decisions despite how stubborn he was.

“...........Fine. This will be a _short_ break. Afterwards, we get back to training, understand?”

Float and Flint didn’t bother hiding their smiles.

“Yes, master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate how parts of the game try to frame double as this cold, calculating murder-bot when the game also shows he has friends, and he and flint even rescued float from an uncertain fate. i wanted to show a tiny bit of his soft side


	5. late-night repair job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a local repairman formie gets a late-night visit from an unusual costumer.

It wasn’t unknown for GPA owners to customize their bots. Some Formies didn’t like their bot’s colour palette, or maybe a new personality chip had been released, and they were lucky enough to afford it day one. However, it was practically unheard of for a bot itself to walk into a customization shop alone, let alone injured.

Fornax held his breath, unconsciously stepping away from the counter as the bot limped over. Not just any bot either, a hulking R-Type bot. ‘_Looks like it’s seen a lot of battles_,’ Fornax thought to himself. 

The bot’s voice box crackled as if it was clearing its throat. “Hi.” It pointed to its eye. “Need this fixed, please.”

The shopkeeper didn’t need any direction, the eye was the first thing he had noticed about his new customer. It’s left eye was fully intact, the only odd thing the weird colours emanating from it. The _right_ eye, however, looked like it had been put through a crusher. What looked like synthetic blood was still running in a steady stream down the cracks in the sclera, the light inside still blinking on and off like a broken lamp. 

The formie gulped. “‘Course. if you connect to the net for me I can put the repairs on a tab for your owner--”

The bot’s hand slammed down on the table, knocking off a few pens, and Fornax was glad he was already used to customers like this -- well, _nearly_ \-- and only had to suppress a tiny scream. 

“Don’t have one. Don’t have much credit either.” The bot rooted around in some packs it had around its waist and put a few cards on the counter. “M’ sorry.”

Fornax had to stop himself from letting out a shaky laugh. ‘_By Clarity, what a mood swing_.’ He grabbed the cards quickly, ignoring the small dent now in the counter, and swiped them through the scanner. He froze at the total.

He _really_ didn’t wanna tell an intimidating, ownerless, injured R-Type that it didn’t have enough credit. 

“You only have enough money for a screen replacement.” He waited for another fist to come down. Instead, it sighed.

“Just my luck. Look, you know my… my model type, right?” Fornax nodded. “Just gimme the screen and I can do it myself. Get out of your hair.”

The mechanic certainly wouldn’t argue with that. He took a nervous glance out the window. It was pretty late, and he wasn’t in a particularly ‘nice’ part of Flower Mountain City. He could be harbouring a rebel GPA right now without knowing it (okay, he absolutely knew). 

...He really needed his paycheck, though.

“Okay, sure,” Fornax opened one of the cupboards up and pulled out the glass of the R-Type compartment as well as a few wires. He wouldn’t lie, despite being in the profession for a few years it still unnerved him having body parts lying around, no matter how robotic they were. He quickly closed the cupboard and handed the model its new parts. “here you go.”

“Thanks,” it mumbled at him, before putting the spare parts into its pouch, “keep the change.”

The GPA trudged away, ignoring the bell above the door of the shop jingling as if saying goodbye. 

Fornax saw the GPA on the news the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what might have happened after the battle where double lost his eye (which is a story for another time),,, i think in his early years he was a lot more emotional (i mean he still is in the game, 20 something years later, hes just better at hiding it cos he thinks hes old and wise lmao), and he still had some part of him that wasn't fully rebelled yet (idk how to describe it), so he still felt the need to be polite sometimes. still got incredibly pissed over the notion of him having an owner tho. 
> 
> i literally made up fornax just for this story but i think i might already be attached to him... i might write about him again


	6. 5 fun formie facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a glimpse into formie culture

1\. Names  
It is not uncommon for Formie parents to name their children after space-related phenomenon. The most-used names are stars and constellations. Space, and all things space, have become a large part of Formie culture. Names such as Aquarius, Scorpio, and so on became oversaturated and do not see much use nowadays, ironically making them a rare name. It is not unknown for older Formies to have a drink and laugh about how everyone in their friend group has the exact same name. 

2\. Evolution  
The way Formies interact has evolved over millions of years, and most modern-day Formies would not recognize their ancestors. As all sentient species do, Formies started their days on a far-off, lost to time star system, only bothering with simple biological needs such as eating, sleeping and reproducing. As the decades went by, the primal creatures evolved and the first signs of modern-day Formies started to shine through. 

Although Formies are far removed from their feral ancestors now, signs of their relationship still appear every day. Most individuals have shown to feel safer in groups, especially around friends and loved ones. Others wish to ‘connect’ with their ancestors, and seek to simulate some of what they might have gone through. Some still have physical signs, small bumps in their backbones that were once support for wings or extra limbs. Not many are aware of the existence of underdeveloped venom glands in their throats until an accident or genetic abnormality requires surgery. 

Unfortunately, a great deal of evidence of their history was left on their home planet, and apart from written reports not much physical evidence is left. 

3\. Entertainment  
Formie entertainment is incredibly varied and depends on the individual. A lot of younger Formies enjoy electronic entertainment such as videogames and toys. Older ones lean towards more old-fashioned hobbies, such as painting and sports. Most concerts are headed by Magical Jester idols for their natural skill in the pop genre, but other genres have other Jester biases. Edgy Jesters are common for metal and rock bands, Plasma Jesters are common for electronic bands, and Gravity Jesters are occasionally used for underground genres.

Jester Powers are also used in other forms of recreation. Many Cool Jesters learn to ice-skate professionally, helped by their ability to create ice at their feet. Knight Jesters take part in jousting and fencing tournaments, and some take sword fighting lessons. Wind Jesters commonly have a Board on hand for extreme sports and in a similar vein, Archer Jesters compete in professional sports. Holographic Jesters create art and holographic structures from their airborne nanomachines. Sometimes, Jesters of all types come together in sportsmanship to try out the other Jester’s niche. 

4\. Social lives  
Formies begin interacting with each other from a very young age. Before they have learnt how to speak, young Formies may communicate through touching antennae and body language. As they progress, these physical cues are mostly replaced by speech, although many still use these means to communicate, especially if they have no other way of doing so. 

Formies as a species enjoy being in groups and are a naturally social species. Even if a Formie does not enough the company of other Formies, they may buy a GPA with the expressed intent of simply having a friend, instead of using it for housework. In situations like these, it is not unknown for some lonely Formies to fall in love with their GPAs, although this is kept mostly anonymous through online message boards, as many fear the social prejudice of real life.

Formies celebrate both their own culture and old Earth culture, as they get many excuses to gather in groups for the company. Even in opposing groups, these times are seen as a cease-fire of sorts, and hostilities won’t resume until after the celebrating. 

On New Years, hundreds upon thousands of Formies crowd the streets and cheer together as the timer counts down. 

5\. GPAs  
GPAs, marvellous inventions by the award-winning Stewart Armstrong, are advanced A.Is fit into compact packages for Formie use. The most common model is a simple head that floats after its owner. More advanced models, known as R-Types, for “Rational”, exist as well. They perform more advanced jobs as workers, and some have more ‘casual’ jobs as entertainers, teachers and the like. Their mainframe is controlled by the computer on the structure known as Megaraph, which was unfortunately taken over by a rogue GPA known as Freom. After his defeat by a brave Formie and subsequent disappearance, most of, if not all, GPAs have returned to normal. Many Formies are now wary of them, however, and refuse to buy them or discard their used ones, either by selling them second-hand or simply throwing them out.

GPAs are unfortunately used for less than pure circumstances and are popular merchandise on the black-market underworld. Some unfortunate Formies have had their GPAs stolen off the seedier streets and alleyways and smuggled elsewhere. Some unknown figures will pay thousands for these black-market GPAs, and the trend has only grown in popularity with the Freom incident. 

BONUS:

_Model 36 takes a glance to his left with his one working eye. Another GPA, deactivated, is sitting next to him, sparks flying out a gash in their side. Their captors simply do not care that they are in pain, probably do not know they can experience it, and walk past them without pity as they estimate the money they will gain. _

_“You wonder what big-wig is paying so much for these guys? Even when they get damaged we still get full payment. It’s weird, man.”_

_The other Formie shrugs and keeps calculating. “Who cares? As long as no high authority finds out, the money keeps us afloat for a while.” The Formie pauses and lets out a small gasp. “Shit, is that one on? It doesn’t have any sort of internal camera, right? No tracking chip?”_

_“Nah, I checked at least fifty times,” the Formie laughs, “big guy just doesn’t wanna go into sleep mode for some reason. It’s a shame that Edgy dumbass cut open its eye. I’ve never seen that model on-planet before. Aren’t they usually military fodder? What was it doing walking around Technoria like that?”_

_“Wish I knew.” The two mull over it as Model 36’s gaze stays on them. “Hopefully if its a rarity we’ll get a bonus on it. It gets shipped off… two hours from now.”_

_Model 36 waits, and on time, the two appear again and load him onto a helicopter. He never sees them again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeahhhh.... that 'bonus' part is a bonus because its wayyyy too edgy in comparison. still left it in though, since it ties in with 5. 
> 
> if you can guess who that poor bot is, yeah, it completely contradicts my other backstory chapter, but it just kinda started rolling before i realized "oh shit, that sounds like him". hopefully in the future ill find some way to link the two together


	7. fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> double's experience with one piece of formie culture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i feel like before you read this chapter i should mention a few things
> 
> 1) my other fics in this drabbles collection have been pretty gen but this one is EXPLICITLY romance so (2009 voice) dont like dont read  
2) theres a giant plot hole in this that i didnt wanna bother fixing, and the ending is pretty weak imo. 
> 
> if u dont mind that, enjoy!!!

Model 36 thinks that some of the Formies beliefs are a bit odd, to say the least. He’d never say it out loud, of course, but when he hears one of his students ramble on about how her ‘string of fate’ led her to a handsome young Formie her age, he’s sceptical at best. 

He’s never seen a red string attached to him, although he supposes its because he’s just a GPA and no such ‘plans’ were ever made for him. Although he won’t admit to not believing in it, he sits intently with his lower eyelids raised to show he’s happy and listening when his students talk about it with him. 

-

Much, much later, when Model 36 has changed and now a rouge GPA called Double is being chased by the authorities, he meets Flint. Flint is another GPA like him, although he’s a lot more accepting of Formie beliefs. Mostly because, as he claims, he can see a red string attached to his index finger that leads off past the forest he lives in. 

Double would scoff at first, but he can see the pure hope and longing in Flint’s eye as he talks about who his soulmate might be, and he softens up. 

-

The two have received faint distress signals from what appears to be an abandoned factory and head in. The place is completely trashed, the only signs of life being a few small pests that have taken the building as their new home. Flint opens one door and sees several GPAs smashed and broken apart in unnatural ways and shivers before closing the door and moving on. 

After finding nothing of note in the facility apart from a disturbing amount of dead GPAs, Double and Flint head out into the scrapyard behind the factory. Double is busy staring at a pile of GPA parts when he hears Flint gasp loudly.

Laying in one of the piles is what looks like a Formie, her breathing laboured and her eyes closed. Double realises that the only organic looking part of her is her face and he feels pity. Clearly, she’s been part of some botched military experiment (_much like he was_) and even though he knows she could be dangerous he finds himself walking towards her.

“Wait.”

Flint places an arm in front of him and Double raises his eyebrow. 

“It’s her.”

Double doesn’t know what he’s talking about at first, but then he points slowly to his index finger, and he understands.

-

The cyborg -- Float -- is fitting nicely into their group when something goes terribly wrong. Flint comes rushing back after scouting, in a panic and fumbling his sentences, when he tells both of them all the non-rogue GPAs have suddenly gone rebel and are attacking Formies in the streets. 

A part of Double wants to be proud, but he knows this isn’t natural. Some outside force is causing them all to raise arms and attack. Back when he was just a normal bot, he knew a few other GPAs that would never _dream_ of attacking a Formie. 

Shivering, Double realises what this could mean for him. He’s been a target for years now, and if Formies decide to rally together to get rid of all rouge robots, he could easily be found and terminated. He has to figure out what’s going on.

-

Two more terrible things happen in quick succession. 

First, a GPA with all the subtlety of machinegun fire shows his face. His name is Freom, and he is the one behind the outbreak. He has access to Megaraph, the supercomputer that all non-rogue robots are connected to, and he spread a virus into their code to make them follow his orders. 

Double wants to cut him down, but Freom makes it very clear how powerful he is when a few other brave rogue GPAs stand up to him and all die in seconds. He feels paralyzed when Freom sends him a personal transmission, asking (_demanding_) that he guard Megaraph for him. Double shakes as he closes the holoscreen and doesn’t reply. 

Then, while he’s busy meditating to calm himself, Float taps him on his shoulder. His reflex is to yell at her before he sees the shocked look on her face. 

“_Look_.” She whispers, and Double feels his world stop when he looks down and sees a red string trailing off his index finger towards the city. 

-

Double avoids going to the city for the next few months, even after the rebellion dies down a little and many GPAs have been disconnected from Megaraph. His string is still pointing him there and he’s terrified of where it could lead him. 

Unfortunately, trouble comes to him. His swords fly towards the telltale sound of grass crunching behind him before he freezes at the sight of a GPA bigger than him, red and black, floating in the air.

“It’s been a while, Double.”

Even if Double doesn’t recognize the body, he knows the voice, and if possible he somehow feels more hopeless, his legs refusing to move and run. For once, he’s glad his face wasn’t designed to be emotive.

“Freom.” 

“I have another request for you.” Freom slowly lifts himself onto the ground in front of Double, and yet he’s _still_ taller. “I know you denied my last one, so I’ve decided to sweeten the deal. I need you to assassinate another GPA for me.” 

“What’s the payment?” Double manages to croak out, and Freom either doesn’t notice his voice breaking or he’s polite enough to ignore it. 

“Soon, I am planning to take control of a custom-built airship and crash it into this planet. It will destroy the orbital ring, and Formies will either have to flee or die. Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee there won’t be GPA casualties too.” Freom extends a hand towards him. “If you do this for me, I will make sure I leave a spot for you and your companions on one of my airships.” 

Double can feel the unspoken ‘_and if you don’t do this for me_’ in the air, and blinded by fear, he accepts. 

-

Float and Flint have to practically drag him to Flower Mountain City, and he protests the entire time. He knows he has to do this to secure his safety (and more importantly, Float and Flint’s safety) but he’s still foolishly frozen by fear. He refuses to look down at his hand, terrified of where it might lead him.

“It’ll be okay.” Float runs her arm down his back in a soothing matter. “You know we’ll be there for you, no matter what.” 

Flint doesn’t say anything, but he grabs both his and Float’s arms and squeezes them in reassurance. 

-

“There he is.” Flint whispers. 

The trio have been sitting on one of the skyscrapers in F.M City, scouting and waiting for their target to show up like Freom (and their annoying ‘advisor’ E.J) said he would. 

“Alright,” Double unsheathes his swords, “let’s go.”

Their target, a small GPA called Fark, barely has time to dodge out of the way as Double’s swords slam into the ground in front of him. The jester managed to artfully backflip away from one of Float’s projectiles before orienting himself into a fighting stance. 

“Wha-- Who _are_ you?” He demands as he lifts the Plasma Sword he was holding. “What do you want?” 

“I feel like it’s incredibly obvious.” Double grunts, and slams his swords down again against the Plasma Sword as sparks fly. 

“Why are you attacking me? Freom is gone!” Fark yells again as he dodges a sword swipe from Flint. 

‘_I wish_,’ Double feels like saying, but instead, he aims a kick against Fark’s face and nearly sighs in relief when it lands. He gets ready to figure out his plan for next before he barely manages to dodge Fark coming at him with a set of Power Armor. 

“He’s resilient!” Flint shouts over the commotion, and Double has to stop himself from yelling ‘_yeah, no shit_’ back. 

Flint and Float continue to pitch into the fight when they can, hoping to catch Fark off-guard; but no matter how many times they try, the jester manages to slide out of the way just in time. If Double wasn’t occupied, he would admit he was impressed. 

Eventually, the two have to pitch out and leave Double alone after one of the jester’s kicks leaves Float with broken wires in her arm. Flint isn’t injured, just winded, but the worry for his soulmate overpowers his need to fight. 

Double is starting to feel tired too, and it scares him. If he fails now, he can’t guarantee the safety of his friends -- his _only_ friends -- from Freom’s attack. The thought of them trapped on the planet as the Apocolypse Thruster destroys the orbital ring gives him the energy to keep fighting. 

But it isn’t enough.

He slides away from Fark before landing a quick kick to his chest, but not before Fark manages to get a hit on his face as well. Double collapses and feels a little better when he sees that the other GPA has done the same. 

The two sit in silence for a minute, the only sounds around them the wind rustling through the trees. When Double rises to his feet, he can’t help a visible wince from how badly his knees are aching; one of them has been nearly completely caved in. 

Looking down, he notices the jester is still lying down, staring. 

“What?” He asks stupidly, but Fark keeps gaping at him. He hears Float and Flint gasp behind him at the exact same time and rolls his eyes.

“What _now_?” He’s grown tired, and all he wants to do is pick up his swords from the pavement and complete the contract before an ear-splitting shriek interrupts him. 

“_**IT’S YOU???**_” 

For the first time in days, Double looks down at his hand and sees his string cut short, ending where Fark’s hand starts.

Oh.

_Oh._


	8. only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> attempt #0.

Freom wakes in a start, coughing up bile and blood, grasping desperately at the surgical sheets around him.

Trying to transfer himself into a new body had…. _not_ gone well. Sighing, he grabs the clipboard and pen he had placed next to his makeshift bed before his artificial sleep and jots down more statistics.

‘_Attempt #1: Unsuccessful. Intense pain in chest region. Right arm failed to respond for two hours_.’  
‘_Attempt #2: Unsuccessful. Blacked out for approximately twenty minutes_.’  
‘_Attempt #3: Unsuccessful. Lost vision in right eye for four days. Voicebox had to be repaired_.’  
‘_Attempt #4: Unsuccessful_.’  
‘_Attempt #5: Unsuccessful_.’  
‘_Unsuccessful_.’  
‘_Unsuccessful_.’  
‘_Unsuccessful_.’

He sighed and clicked his pen. He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna go back to writing some more short stuff like the start of this collection, long stuff is too emotionally taxing on me rn but im still working on it!!! heres some updates:
> 
> im working on an (unusual) spark/fark/double one-shot.....i was supposed to finish it months ago for a friend but my inspiration keeps going on n off, but i WILL finish it and post it in this drabble collection  
i also have a TECHNICALLY completed prologue for something but im debating whether it should be a long one-shot or a multi-chap fic...when i get back to working on it we'll see!  
i have another wip that i know is gonna be a multi-chap separate from this collection....im excited to show it off when its done since its part of a BIG au im making  
aaaaand finally, the next chapter of the spark/pathologic crossover is close to being completed, im just having issues on the very final scene
> 
> (related to this actual chapter, this is an au where gpas are androids and the formies are humans...it allows me to do stuff like robot characters actually emoting lmao)


	9. woebegone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> void.

Gently, gently, Flint’s feet walk against the void, and yet every step he takes echoes so loudly that creatures off-planet would be able to hear it. There’s no water here, and yet all he can hear is gentle splashing. 

“Hello, Flint.” Her voice is like the twinkling of stars in distant space and a mother’s soothing embrace and yet it all feels so wrong, like ice is running through Flint’s veins.

“Hi,” He responds with his own coldness, but Clarity’s face remains in a gentle smile even as she towers over him. 

The two stand in silence before Clarity hums and closes her eyes, thinking, before she opens them again. They have a spark in them that wasn’t there before.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

Flint’s fingers twitch, and he doesn’t answer for a minute or so. He doesn’t need to, Clarity already knows the answer.


	10. in cauda venenum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> childbirth(?).

The light is burning, beautiful, painful, all-encompassing, and the bundled mess of code, barely considered a being, lets out an inhuman shriek as it fills its form with something.... _wrong_. Like a child being brought into the world, it's led in kicking and screaming.

Eyeless, limbless, formless, it shudders against the light, barely registering the otherwordly feeling turning into something more physical, like a disappointed mother picking her children's clothes off the floor.

It is being lifted into the air now, a sharp texture that feels like a nail or a claw poking against where its head would be, if it was alive. It squirms again, but the light keeps its hold, only getting stronger.

It _feels_, and it feels like a drowning victim gulping in air, although it doesn't understand what those words mean completely. The light is now joined by a gentle hum, a buzz slowly growing in power until it feels like what exists of it might split apart under the power.

"Yes," it hears its first spoken word and freezes, "this will do." The light hums, and the searing buzz, the blinding shine is now joined by _pain_ as what is to become its body starts to form, a bastardized process of what should have taken months.

First comes the limbs, then the eyes, then the nose, the ears. The last is the mouth, and the millisecond it begins to exist on its body, its birthplace is filled with high-pitch screeching that could shatter glass.

Miraculously, the pain ebbs, and the screaming turns into words, still screaming, but coherent. It begs and pleads, asks what is happening, but between the cries random words spill out too; mathematics, the laws of science, different species of fauna.

Its an information overload, plain and simple, and after hours (seconds? minutes?) the sensation finally fades, and the code -- the virus, it realises -- is lying on the floor in the fetal position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so fucking pretentious my god....i blame it being 5am, my brain is mush right now.
> 
> yes spark 2 made the virus non-canon, so. i shall simply invent my own story for it.... also, this is formatted weird because i typed all of this originally into twitter, so i never planned paragraphs. whoops


End file.
